She Wasn't Like You
by Sapphrine
Summary: Peace has finally come. But Harry Potter has gone...along with the Dark Lord, and surprising yet, Draco Malfoy. However, further into the future, a young couple tries an experiment, and brings both the Gryffindor and the Slytherin back together to find tr
1. Remember and Forgive

**A/N: **Hello people who know me! Lol, been gone for some time, but back now! This is a _short_ story that popped into my head a while ago…and I've decided to write it in **honor of my dear _Mikayla_'s birthday!** So yes…this is all dedicated to her!

This chapter is really a **prologue**, but seeing I hate it when at the top of ff.net, where it shows the chapters, the **"prologue"** is **"chapter one**", I've just made this chapter one. So, that's pretty much why this one is so short!

Chapter 1 Remember and Forgive

He drifted slowly…fading in and then out again. The ground felt strangely soft under him, the rocks like pillows. The blood down his arms…his legs…his face…felt merely like warm water in a shower.

It was finally over. The wizarding world…the _world_ was finally safe. No more hatred…no more fear. There was…_peace_…

Someone stumbled over to him, the fell on his side, panting.

"Harry…" a small voice…weak…and pleading.

He opened his eyes and stared into watery silver ones. He opened his lips, coughed, and rasped out,

"You…betrayed me…"

The silver puddles closed, then opened, bigger than ever…wetter…

"No…" was the answer. "No…I didn't…I…I didn't _mean _to. I never…I wouldn't…I…I lo-"

"No…" he shook his head, wincing at the sudden, surprising pain. "No…you don't. I know. I thought I felt the same…that what we had was real…"

"Harry-"

"I thought that when you saw me, what you saw was someone you loved. Because I felt that when I looked at you. I thought that it didn't matter if everyone shook their heads at us…that Ron, Hermione, and I fell apart, because what I had was you…and that was all that mattered…"

"I-"

"But I was wrong. I lost everyone…every_thing_ that I loved, or loved me…because I gave them all up for you. Couldn't you see that? Why couldn't you? I _loved_ you. But now I know that all those times were fake. It was _all_ fake."

"That's not tr-"

"Now leave me…" he closed his eyes feebly. He could feel his energy running out…could feel his magic leaving him…his _life_...

"Harry…"

"_Leave!_"

The young man gave a breath of emotion, and slowly, painfully, pushed himself up. He stumbled two feet, and fell.

The black-haired boy closed his eyes as sudden, hot tears rushed to his eyes, and then opened them, raised his head a little, and stared at the unmoving…_lifeless_ figure on the ground.

"Goodbye…Draco," he whispered, before dropping his head back on the ground.

The light was dimming…he just felt so tired…wanted to sleep…go into darkness, yes…it felt wonderful.

But yet…as he started drifting again – this time for the last – he couldn't help but remember those touches…the kisses…soft lips upon his…he wanted to feel that one last time so badly…just a soft touch…just one more…the feeling of love.

But no…that only person who could make him feel that way was gone…drifting away from the world…

Harry was almost gone…his soul flowing freely. But something still troubled his heart…something that would not allow him to drift in peace.

Harry dimly wondered what that was, when a thought came flashing through his mind.

_I forgive you Draco._

And all at once, he knew no more…only felt the calmness of silence and peace forevermore…

_TBC…_

**A/N: **Yea…I know…told you it was short!

Lol, anyhow, that's **NOT THE END!** So I guess you'll have to **leave a review**, **add me to your Author's Alert**, and make me feel special! Lol!!


	2. Bring Him Back

**A/N: **Okay okay…here's the thing: Usually, I don't really like it when in a fanfiction, there are characters that the writer makes up that are the main characters (sorry, I forget what they're called…haven't been in the FF world for a looong time!! --;;). I _also_ don't like it when the author names the character after him/her, or…yea…no offense to anyone, but this is just how I feel.

_However_, seeing this is _dedicated_ to my friend, I'm going to break all those rules. I mean, I kind of had to create new people for this story anyway…but the names are people that I know. At least one of them is.

**Warning: **There's like, **_no_** Draco or Harry in this chapter. Or rather, there kind of is, but not with them living. Just the characters talking about them. But if you plan on reading this story, I _strongly_ advice you to read this anyway. It'll explain a lot of things.

Oh, and just a **note to people who might've been in denial: **Yes, it's true. Draco and Harry are **_dead_**! (shudder)

**Chapter 2 Bring Him Back**

****

"Tom!"

He swirled around gracefully, and squinted through the light drizzle at a figure running up to him. It was a young woman, hidden under a raincoat.

"Oh…Mikayla?"

"Yes!" she laughed, as soon as she caught up, out of breath. "I saw you walking out of the library, so I thought that we'd walk home together!"

"Sure," he answered lightly, and the two began their walk down the lane. The rain began to fall harder, as the pair turned the corner.

"So how are you?" Tom asked, turning his face toward the brunette. "How're your studies?"

"Alright," she answered. "We're studying the Dark Forces in the past right now, and it's pretty interesting! But it's really hard to imagine anyone like Voldemort existing…it's just so creep – what?" she asked, stopping.

"You…said his name!" Tom whispered harshly. "No one ever does…how could you?"

"Oh Tom," Mikayla smiled. "Don't be silly. You know perfectly well that that myth is…well…just a myth! He's not going to come back! He's dead! He has been, for half a millennium!"

"That doesn't mean he can't come back," Tom said seriously. "You know how surprising magic is, no one truly understands it!"

"Yes, but no one can come back to life after dying!" Mikayla argued earnestly.

"But the Mitant did," Tom answered. "You know the story, everyone does! About how the Mitant went to a young boy named Harry Potter's house, killed his parents, and tried to kill the kid. But somehow, the curse backfired, and the Mitant was killed instead!"

"Not _killed_," Mikayla said impatiently. "All that happened was that he lost practically all his power."

"Yeah, but he came back eventually, didn't he? And Harry Potter fought him off all that time, but he still came back after all that time, didn't he?"

"Not really…Potter _did_ defeat him at the end."

"But that still doesn't prove that he's gone forever! He could be binding his time, like he did before!"

"Oh Tom," Mikayla said exasperatedly. "I don't think I can ever make you understand…"

"Or…what if someone creates a machine that can bring people back to life?"

"Tom," Mikayla said seriously. "Stop being silly."

They had reached Mikayla's flat. She reached inside her coat pocket for her key, but then pulled her hand out with a funny look on her face. She then reached into all her pockets, never grasping anything.

"What's the matter?" Tom asked. "Lost your key?"

"I think I must have forgotten to take it with me…" Mikayla said worriedly. "Er…listen, do you think I could go to your place a make a call?"

"Why don't you just stay at my home for the night?" Tom suggested. "It's rather late right now, most stores might be closed."

"Would you mind?" Mikayla said nervously.

"Not at all! You can stay in the guest bedroom!"

"Thanks so much!" Mikayla said, breaking into a relieved smile.

"No problem."

"Wow…this place is pretty cozy!" Mikayla said happily, bouncing in.

"Yeah…I guess," Tom answered, while taking his wand out and pointing it at the fireplace. Within seconds, there was a rosy fire, and coffee on the table in front of the two armchairs.

"Mmmm…feels like school again!" Mikayla laughed, as she settled into one of the chairs.

"Yeah," Tom repeated, with a light smile on his face.

"So what have you been up to?" Mikayla asked. "We were so busy talking about my classes that we haven't gotten to you!"

"Ehh…nothing really," Tom answered. "The Committee is really rather boring, actually, nothing ever happens."

"But you work at the _Time__ Palace_! That must be interesting!"

"Well…yeah, sure, but there's nothing to do with _that_ either! Unless you want to be like Freddy Murkins and make Time Turners all day…"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Well…sometimes you get transported away."

"Oh…"

There was a bit of silence, while Tom stared at his mug of coffee, looking like he was thinking, and Mikayla watched the flames dancing in the fireplace. Finally, Tom spoke up.

"Can you…do you…"

Mikayla looked at him strangely, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh…never mind."

"No, what?" she asked.

"Well…can you keep…a secret?"

"A secret?"

He nodded.

"Erm…sure, I guess…what is it?"

"Well…follow me…"

He stood up, and rested his mug on the table. Mikayla did the same, then got up, and followed Tom out of the room, and into a dark hallway. Tom turned to make sure that Mikayla was following, before going forward again. He stopped at the room at the very end of the hall, and pushed the door open. The room they entered was what Mikayla suspected to be Tom's bedroom. There was a fairly large bed there, as well as a desk with paper on top. Motioning for Mikayla to follow, he then turned at a door that Mikayla suspected was a closet. However, as soon as he had opened it, Mikayla knew that it was not.

The room wasn't exactly big, but it wasn't too small either. The walls were bare, as well as the wooden floor. The whole place reminded Mikayla of a laboratory. Pushed to against the walls were wooden tables piled with different sorts of paper, and in the middle of he room was what looked like a long metal machine.

"Err…what _is_ this place?" Mikayla finally asked.

"It's…it's my study room," Tom answered slowly. "This is where I do most of my work."

"But what work?" Mikayla questioned, walking into the room. "What's that machine?"

"Oh…it's…err…listen, you _promise_ to keep this a secret, right?"

"Yes!"

"Well…it's…" Tom walked past Mikayla and further into the room. "It's my…invention, I guess."

"You invented something?" Mikayla said in wonderment, as she inched closer to the strange-looking machine and peered at it. "What does it do?"

"It…well…it…can bring people back to life," Tom said nervously.

Mikayla's head snapped up, and she looked at Tom in amazement. "What do you mean?" she asked slowly.

"Well…basically…you have to enter a part of the person in here," he pointed at a small opening in the front of the machine. "It then scans the DNA, and re-creates the person! Well…not really like recreating him…more like, just pulling him out from his past life."

Mikayla stared at him. "But…that doesn't make any sense," she argued. "How does this…thing know _when_ to get the person?"

"Oh," Tom said. "We enter the time, place, and so on here." He gestured to a small screen with numbers on it. "Then, the machine retraces the person's life, and brings him back…just grabbing him out of whatever he was doing."

"But…" Mikayla turned brightly to Tom, her eyes shining from excitement. "But that's _wonderful_, Tom! This would make you fortunes! You'd be one of the most brilliant wizards ever to live!"

"No…" Tom answered, although his cheeks were a bit of a reddish color. "I can't do that…I mean, it would be wonderful and all…but I'm afraid that this will get stolen by some idiot bloke who'll bring back the Mitant just for the fun of it. Then this world would be full of chaos again!"

"Oh Tom," Mikayla said, smiling. "Haven't you thought of how that would be impossible?"

"How?"

"Well, no one ever bothered to _save_ any part of the Mitant, have they? He'd never come back!"

"Oh…" Tom blinked. "I guess I never thought of that…"

"Of course not, silly! That's why I'm around!"

Tom laughed softly.

"Besides…I know who we _can_ bring back…who's part a study lab _does_ have."

"Who?" Tom asked quizzically.

"Harry Potter."

**A/N: **Riiight…sooo…that's basically it. I want to apologize for all this crappy writing…I really haven't written in a **long-ass** time, so my skills aren't exactly…up right now.


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